


Stumble

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 07:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10458252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Erestor’s too tipsy for the ride home, but Glorfindel’s got it covered.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Trip Home” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/153917135000/my-holiday-themed-bingo-under-cut-you-can-make).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Lord Elrond’s party is in a far sorrier shape than it arrived in, but that’s nothing new for one of King Thranduil’s festivals. Even Lord Elrond himself is slow to mount his horse, and several of his servants opt to walk alongside him, rather than attempting to mount their own steeds. None of the Woodland realm has come past the gates to continue goodbyes, but Glorfindel imagines they’re all passed out by now.

Glorfindel picks his way amongst the dense underbrush, searching for Asfaloth amidst the uncharacteristic disarray. Instead, his eyes catch on another elf already mounted, swaying unsteadily with both hands laced in a white mane. Glorfindel beelines there and calls cheerily up, “Would you like to share a horse for the trip home, my friend?”

Erestor squints down at him. Glorfindel didn’t expect Erestor to take easily to such a breach of protocol. In a voice unusually thick and weary, Erestor mutters, “That would be highly inappropriate.

Glorfindel counters, “I promise to behave,” and winks.

Erestor rolls his eyes. Then he pinches the bridge of his nose and starts to rub it, head drooping, perhaps over a well-deserved headache. Around it, he mumbles, “You seem as ridiculously cheerful as ever.”

“I always have held my liquor better than you.”

Erestor’s head abruptly snaps up, and his cheeks flush darker than they did last night, when the wine was fresh in both of them and the curtains were drawn around them. “Is that why you offer? You think me...”

He doesn’t even say it, but Glorfindel provides, “Still quite drunk? Or simply severely hungover?”

Erestor scowls and snaps, hissed too quiet to carry, “I am _not_ intoxicated.”

Glorfindel dons a cheeky grin. He lets the moment stretch while those around him finish packing, but Erestor doesn’t retract his obvious lie. When most seem ready to head out again, and Lindir is walking amongst the party to check, Glorfindel asks, “Then why have you mounted my horse instead of your own?”

Erestor flushes all over again. He opens his mouth but swiftly closes it; there’s nothing he can say that won’t contradict himself. Glorfindel just chuckles, and when Lindir reaches them, Glorfindel says, “We are ready, but please see that someone leads Erestor’s horse,” and hikes himself right onto Asfaloth’s rear. Locking his arms tight around his lithe boyfriend, he taps his heels against his steed’s side, and they begin to stroll forward with the rest of the horde.

Erestor mutters, “I will get you for this,” but does relax against him. They spend the trip home much the same, warmed beyond the wine.


End file.
